Dust to Dust
by SaintJacTheGingerNinja
Summary: Jac Naylor is shot and that transports her back to 1984. Will she survive? Why is she there? Read to find out! Please R&R.
1. BANG!

**My name is Jac Naylor. I've just been shot and that bullet has taken me back to 1984. I may be one second away from life or one second away from death. All I know is that I have to keep fighting, fight to live, fight to keep my job, fight to get home.**

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><p>Jac Naylor nursed her usual tiredness remedy, a hot, steaming cup of coffee that she now held in her trembling hands. As she savoured the startling warmth of her drink, her eyes locked onto her petite wrist watch, the hand of which was stopped firmly on 7:00am. Slowly, Jac inhaled, predicting that today would embrace many unusual events – a day in the life of any doctor - through the smoke of her brew. Her mind turned to Joseph. The Love of her life. Where was he know? Was he happy? Has he got someone else? Jac shook her head almost violently, to defeat the conquering thoughts that had engulfed her brain. She carefully replaced her ice-queen exterior, weakness was not an option. Glancing at the notes that she had already collected from the ward computer, she drained the last remaining drops of her drink and fished out a specific folder before heading out of the door.<p>

"Ms Naylor!" Oliver Valentine burst onto the ward, his brow lined with sweat, waving some incomplete paper work in the air. Skidding to a halt in front of his mentor, Ollie let out a calming breath and placed his hands on his faltering knees, so that his elbows protruded at a perpendicular angle.

"What is it?" Jac replied, her steely tone no different from usual, her eyes flashing with dislike.

"We've got a patient coming in with CTU. Simon Layton, fifty one, gunshot wound to the chest, he will be here in about five minutes." Oliver answered, straightening his arched back in a flourish, so that his mentor had to look up at him.

"Right. Has he crashed?"

"No, but he is bleeding severely."

"Ok…" Jac began, her brow furrowing when Oliver stayed where he was. "...Thank you." Jac tilted her head to motion for Ollie to leave, her emerald eyes, though they enclosed no gift of speech, signalling that this was out of his league. "Well run along then." Oliver raised a sceptical eyebrow, his feet reluctant to move.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"I've got some magnificent price porkers waiting for you in the wet lab." Jac said, sneering with a vestige of hate. Oliver opened his mouth, looking set to complain, but Jac cut him of with a swift glare.

"Fine." He muttered, turning on his heel and leaving.

Suddenly, a loud bang echoed around the room, strident, piercing, its source alerting the raw surgeon inside of Jac, her instincts now controlling her movements. A trolley containing a riving man entered the ward; his hair tangled and matted, his eyes dark and hollow, and his screams deadly. Sahira Shah threw her stethoscope around her neck, her priceless top covered in uncongealed blood, her right hand putting secure pressure on the wound. Instantly, Jac ran to her side, pushing her silky hair behind her ears.

"RIGHT, I NEED MORPHINE!" Sahira yelled. The patient's hand reached underneath his black leather jacket, and his eyes darkened. Glancing inconspicuously around, the bulge in his inside pocket began to move. Quickly, he pulled out a gun. He took only seconds to consider. **BANG!** The bullet travelled in slow motion, its silvery tip, to Jac, a portal to past memories. **An explosion morphed into the terrified face of a red-headed child, and then again to an expressionless Joseph Byrne. **

"Jackie?" A whispering voice engulfed her ears. "Jackie?" The Bullet struck her, hard, on the head. Her screams were imminent as blood streamed out from the fatal tear.


	2. The Real 1984

**I apologize in advance if any of the language used in the following chapter is offensive, but this is what these characters from this particular show sound like.**

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><p><strong><strong>My name is Jac Naylor. I've just been shot and that bullet has taken me back to 1984. I may be one second away from life or one second away from death. All I know is that I have to keep fighting, fight to live, fight to keep my job, fight to get home.<strong>**

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><p><strong>Tick Tock goes the clock,<strong>

**Were waiting for you Jac,**

**Tick Tock goes the clock,**

**Will you ever get back?**

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><p>"Phwoar! Chris! Chris, mate come an'look at this! Shag worthy this one." Ray yelled to his colleague, cigarette firmly in his mouth. Looking down at the red-headed woman beside his feet, his eyes widened and he gestured for his friend to join him. A short, velvet dress hugged Jac's small figure to the extreme, black stockings rose up to her waist line and a white, fluffy, fur coat cushioned her sprawled body. Chris jogged over, eyeing the woman that lay on the grass.<p>

"I dunno, she looks kind of… scary to me." He gulped, hoping Shaz wouldn't spot him.

"Puff." Ray exclaimed - this was his average reaction to anything Chris did. "Na I would do her, love a ginger me. Hey, do'ya think she's a tom?" He said, nudging Chris with his elbow, his eyes resting on the end of Jac's dress.

"Dunno, better check it out with the Guv…" Chris shrugged thoughtfully, and then furrowed his brow, a ridiculous question forming in his mind "Ray…."

"What mate?"

"You know shes ginger on top…, well…., do you think she's ginger…. You'know… down below?" Chris asked, stoking his head with his right hand and coughing.

"What, you mean the pussy?" Ray responded, his eyebrow raised.

"Yeah…"

"I dunno mate… never shagged a ginge… lets take a look…" Ray edged closer to Jac, and leaned his knees onto the fresh grass. Quickly, Jac's emerald eyes flickered open; they widened, taking in the scenery around. "Shit! She's waking up!" Jac groaned and rolled over to one side. Gene Hunt strolled over, pushing his colleagues roughly aside, and stared at the woman kneeling at his feet.

"Is the bullet out?" She mumbled, brushing the dirt from her face.

"Great, another fruitcake, add them all up and you could have a party." He said, his molars lined with spit. Jac stood up waveringly, more due to the fact that she had somehow "transported" than the huge high heels she now found her self wearing – not her first choice of foot wear. Her eyes surveyed her surroundings, it was a hospital, an old one at that, but shared the similar structure and whiteness with the place she has come from. "Had a few two many to drink?" Gene began.

"What's the date?"

"Excuse me?" Hunt exclaimed, putting his hands in his pockets.

"What is the date? Surely that is a simple enough question." Jac retorted. Ray stood there transfixed, as still as a corpse, his mind turning circles like helicopter blades, staring at the woman that had just woken up.

"If I throw a stick will you leave?" Jac said, sarcasm dripping from her words and anger circling her tongue, her words aimed at Ray.

"What did you say?" Ray retorted, his fists clenched, his arms at a perpendicular angle.

"What, is sarcasm a foreign language to you people? What is the date?"

"The 3rd of February 1984 miss." Chris spoke up for the first time. Jac's eyes widened, her breathing hurried.

_No! It can't be! It just can't! How did I get here? Was it the bullet? Am I in a coma? Am I dead? Why this year? Any year but this year, and this month! This is the month __it__ happens._

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><p><strong>Tick Tock goes the clock, <strong>

**When Jackie's dad will die,**

**Tick Tock goes the clock, **

**Will Jackie find out why?**

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><p><strong>Please Review! :D I wanna know if I should continue with this or if its a waste of time. Btw my other jacjoe fic won't be updated in a while because I am very busy and plus I am going on holiday! Sorry about that. <strong>


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